she wasn’t going to bash him over the head, he knelt beside the firebox. “I’ll be done in a moment.”
“I can light a lamp, so you can see.”
The room lit with a soft glow as he stacked the wood neatly in the box. When he’d finished, Friedrick stood and turned around. He was prepared to see a spinster woman with eyeglasses, similar to Miss Lehmann, standing there. Instead he found himself peering into the vibrant, green eyes of the girl from the dance hall.
“You’re the new teacher?” he asked at the same moment she declared, “I know you.” They shared a laugh.
She glanced down at her nightgown and blushed. He’d barged in on her sleeping. Embarrassed, Friedrick spotted a coat near the door and reached for it. “Here you go.” He handed it to her.
She gave him a grateful smile as she pulled it on. The coat and nightgown hid her small waist and curves, but he still thought she looked every bit as lovely as she had the night they’d danced. Especially with her dark blond hair falling over her shoulders and framing her pretty face.
Friedrick realized he was staring. He cleared his throat and focused his gaze on a knot in the pantry cupboard, right above her bare head. “I’m glad to see you got the job.”
“You must be the new maintenance man Mr. Foster told me about.”
“Yes.” A job that suddenly held more appeal to him than just earning money, especially if he got to see her more often. “Sorry about coming in unannounced. Mr. Foster wasn’t sure when you’d arrive and I wanted to be sure you had wood.”
“Thank you.” She lowered her gaze and fingered the hem of her sleeve. Friedrick recognized it as a gesture of shyness.
Funny, she hadn’t struck him as timid the other night. Could that mean she might like him? Might have thought about him since their last meeting? His chest swelled a bit at the possibility.
“I best get going.” He angled toward the door, but stopped when she spoke again.
“My name’s Olivia Campbell, by the way,” she said in a rush. “But most people call me Livy.”
Friedrick dusted his wood-flecked palms against his pants and stuck out his hand. “Pleased to meet you again, Livy Campbell.” His hand swallowed hers as it had when they were dancing. He liked the soft feel of her fingers in his grip. “I’ll be working on the school roof this week, but let me know if I can help you with anything else.”
“And your name?” She smiled, her face reflecting her eagerness to know.
He released her hand and glanced at the open door. If only he could give her a more American-sounding name, one that wouldn’t crush his chance to get to know her better. But he couldn’t lie. “I’m Friedrick Wagner.”
“Wagner?” she repeated, a note of surprise in her voice. “Are you from here?” She quickly shook her head. “From America, I mean.”
“My parents are from Germany, if that’s what you’re wondering.” He didn’t bother to hide the annoyance that colored his words. This was the very reason he’d chosen not to tell her his name before. He’d repeated this very scene so many times while dancing the last year, he’d lost count. “I was born in the United States, though, same as you.”
Her cheeks turned pink at his comment, but that didn’t prevent her from opening her mouth again. “How many of the children at the school are…of German descent?”
Irritation leapt inside him, despite knowing the question wasn’t entirely unfounded. “Every farm in our township but one has ancestral ties to Germany. Does that bother you?”
“No.” She kept her chin tilted up as she said it, and yet a flicker of wariness in her green eyes belied her response. “I only hope the children will know I don’t plan to continue…” She visibly swallowed. “I will be dispensing with some of the practices of the last teacher.”
The resentment he’d harbored over all his family had suffered the past few weeks roiled inside him, despite knowing
“I can light a lamp, so you can see.”
The room lit with a soft glow as he stacked the wood neatly in the box. When he’d finished, Friedrick stood and turned around. He was prepared to see a spinster woman with eyeglasses, similar to Miss Lehmann, standing there. Instead he found himself peering into the vibrant, green eyes of the girl from the dance hall.
“You’re the new teacher?” he asked at the same moment she declared, “I know you.” They shared a laugh.
She glanced down at her nightgown and blushed. He’d barged in on her sleeping. Embarrassed, Friedrick spotted a coat near the door and reached for it. “Here you go.” He handed it to her.
She gave him a grateful smile as she pulled it on. The coat and nightgown hid her small waist and curves, but he still thought she looked every bit as lovely as she had the night they’d danced. Especially with her dark blond hair falling over her shoulders and framing her pretty face.
Friedrick realized he was staring. He cleared his throat and focused his gaze on a knot in the pantry cupboard, right above her bare head. “I’m glad to see you got the job.”
“You must be the new maintenance man Mr. Foster told me about.”
“Yes.” A job that suddenly held more appeal to him than just earning money, especially if he got to see her more often. “Sorry about coming in unannounced. Mr. Foster wasn’t sure when you’d arrive and I wanted to be sure you had wood.”
“Thank you.” She lowered her gaze and fingered the hem of her sleeve. Friedrick recognized it as a gesture of shyness.
Funny, she hadn’t struck him as timid the other night. Could that mean she might like him? Might have thought about him since their last meeting? His chest swelled a bit at the possibility.
“I best get going.” He angled toward the door, but stopped when she spoke again.
“My name’s Olivia Campbell, by the way,” she said in a rush. “But most people call me Livy.”
Friedrick dusted his wood-flecked palms against his pants and stuck out his hand. “Pleased to meet you again, Livy Campbell.” His hand swallowed hers as it had when they were dancing. He liked the soft feel of her fingers in his grip. “I’ll be working on the school roof this week, but let me know if I can help you with anything else.”
“And your name?” She smiled, her face reflecting her eagerness to know.
He released her hand and glanced at the open door. If only he could give her a more American-sounding name, one that wouldn’t crush his chance to get to know her better. But he couldn’t lie. “I’m Friedrick Wagner.”
“Wagner?” she repeated, a note of surprise in her voice. “Are you from here?” She quickly shook her head. “From America, I mean.”
“My parents are from Germany, if that’s what you’re wondering.” He didn’t bother to hide the annoyance that colored his words. This was the very reason he’d chosen not to tell her his name before. He’d repeated this very scene so many times while dancing the last year, he’d lost count. “I was born in the United States, though, same as you.”
Her cheeks turned pink at his comment, but that didn’t prevent her from opening her mouth again. “How many of the children at the school are…of German descent?”
Irritation leapt inside him, despite knowing the question wasn’t entirely unfounded. “Every farm in our township but one has ancestral ties to Germany. Does that bother you?”
“No.” She kept her chin tilted up as she said it, and yet a flicker of wariness in her green eyes belied her response. “I only hope the children will know I don’t plan to continue…” She visibly swallowed. “I will be dispensing with some of the practices of the last teacher.”
The resentment he’d harbored over all his family had suffered the past few weeks roiled inside him, despite knowing
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